


The Hunted

by Yate



Category: Logan - Fandom, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Wolverine - Fandom
Genre: Experimentation, Other, Violence, kidnap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 10:58:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17744642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yate/pseuds/Yate
Summary: When you walk out of class one night, you have no idea that your whole world is about to change after a group of men attempt to hurt you. After finding out who you truly are, you're captured by Donald Pierce. Now the only thing on your mind is survival.





	The Hunted

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is a story based off an OFC character I created after watching the movie "Logan" with Boyd Holbrook playing Donald Pierce. I hope you all enjoy!

I walked through the aisles of the mini mart, looking at the various rows of energy drinks and bags of chips as I grabbed a redbull and made my way to the counter. I paid in the cash my dad had given me a few days prior to buy snacks in between classes, and made my way back out on the busy city street.I lived in new York, and took classes at an independent night school university- mostly because of my anxiety. I hated being around a lot of people at once, especially people around my age. They intimidated me, and I hated feeling intimidated. This, however, meant that I often stayed up during the late hours of the night, though I couldn’t say that I minded. There were always interesting people out on the streets of New York passed midnight- which is when my classes for the night ended. It was a pretty good schedule; weekdays from six to midnight. This gave me the whole day to do whatever I wanted, which mostly involved running, reading, and watching movies. Call me agoraphobic, but I hated going outside when I didn’t have to. I always made time for my morning runs, though. What can I say, I valued my health. As I walked out in the cool summer night air that fell through the cracks of the tall buildings that surrounded me, I stopped to adjust the straps on my backpack.That’s when I felt it- a chill, almost strong enough to be considered an ache at the back of my neck. I turned around just in time to see a man running towards me- staggering almost as if he was drunk- which made the fact that he was quickly closing the distance between us even more frightening. I didn’t know what to do, suddenly forgetting how to move my legs. Suddenly forgetting how to move in general. He approached me quickly, panting heavily from having to run, which made it all the worse for me, as I had to smell the putrid alcohol on his tongue. 

“Sa pretty girl like you doin’ out here all alone?” he grinned, eyeing my chest and legs. It was all I could do to stare wide eyed at him. Frozen in fear of what was to come. I couldn’t move, and yet I had always thought of myself to be the type of person who would be good in a situation like this. The kind that would stay calm, and remember what I had been told about self defense. But none of that was registering in my mind at this moment. Only the smell of alcohol and the gleam of a silver blade in his left hand. He saw me eyeing it nervously and looked down at it’s rusted blade.   
“Ya like it? Was a gift.” He wheezed out a laugh through his toothy grin, and I had to stop myself from gagging as he pressed it roughly to my side.   
“Not a talkative type. Good. We’s gon have some fun tonight darlin’.”  
That was it for me. Something finally snapped in my mind as I raised my arm and socked him in the nose as hard and as quickly as I could, hearing the soft fleshy sound of it breaking under the impact. Now run, I thought, and turned around to start sprinting, anywhere, anywhere away from this spot. I made it to the end of the street, starting to run across it when a car came screeching to a halt right in front of me, as I quickly jumped back.   
I didn’t say anything, mouth agape as I looked at it, windows tinted and it being too dark to look inside anyways. That was when I heard the stumbling footsteps coming from wher I had just been, and a gurgled “Bitch!”, come from the man with the knife. That knocked some sense into me.   
“Help! Help me!” No one got out of the car, it just stayed there, lights turning off after a moment. Then the doors opened; all four of them.   
Out came out the scariest group of men I had ever seen in my life- and I had lived in New York since I was three. The first one, the one behind the wheel, was tall- maybe 6’4, with no hair, and a snake tattoo classily winding around his sleeveless arms. The passenger side man had hair, too much of it; long and tangled up in a low ponytail, with a smile that showed too many teeth. All yellowed and decayed, from smoking, it looked like. The two in the back were just as rough looking- one had a gun tucked in the front side of his pants, in front of his shirt for all to see, and the other one was just beginning to bald, with acne scars covering his cheeks and shoulders. No tattoos visible, except a small heart under his eye. And I don’t think that meant “love”. I said it again, breathy and quiet.

“Help.” They just looked at me, grins apparent in their eyes if not on their mouths. I was beginning to panic, as the man was fast approaching. The one that had been behind the steering wheel looked me in the eyes as he said the man I had punched, who was now holding his nose, and breathing heavily out of his mouth;

“How’s she treatin you, Joe?”

My heart sank further than I had ever thought possible. In fact, i believe it left my body completely, for I did not feel it beat once after he spoke. 

“Little bitch don broke my nose.” He spit out blood next to my shoe, and I looked down at it slowly- seeing the clots and strings of mucus on the sidewalk mixed in with red. 

“Aw now, why would she do a thing like that?”

He shut his car door, and so did the others. I backed away feeling my feet go numb. This couldn’t be happening. This doesn’t just happen to someone. This can’t be real. 

And yet, I knew exactly what I was looking at. I was looking at my death sentence. In that moment I could picture everything; the police finding my body in some dumpster somewhere in this hell of a city. “She was just walking home from classes”, they’ll explain to my dad, “when she was taken. Raped. Killed.” I was going to be a statistic in a matter of minutes. And it was too much. The man who had been driving told the man named Joe to get in the car, and he happily complied, still nursing his bloody face. 

And then I turned, and I ran. But I wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t strong enough, and I wasn’t brave enough to do anything but scream when the man grabbed me. When he punched stomach, kicked my ribs, ripped open my shirt. The others standing around him, looking out for anyone else. And that’s when it happened- after he tore open my shirt. That’s when I reached up to punch him. Only something hit him before my fist did- something sharp. Because when I saw my fist connect to his face, his whole body stilled, and his eyes went blank. Then I pulled away and saw it; the blades that extended out from my fist, covered and dripping now, in another man’s blood. The other men, they saw this, and they ran. Got in their car, curses flying out of their mouths in every language I had ever been taught, then sped off. I just layed there, next to a dead man, looking at my fist, where the blades had been. Now, there was just a fist, bloody and bruised. In my shocked state, I got up, and I began walking, stopping only once to grab the bag I had been carrying, and sling it back on my back, adjusting the straps. Then I made my way to the police station.

The woman at the front of the station had too much makeup on. She looked to be about 35, and was chewing minty gum as she asked me questions with mock sympathy, and a patronizing stare, looking me up and down; bloody, bruised, wearing shorts and a ripped shirt. I told her everything. How I had been walking when the man named Joe ran up to me with a knife, how I ran and almost got hit by a car full of men who tried to kill me in the street. How I punched him, only there were blades in my hand, and I don’t know what happened. How I walked here from that street, and not a single person stopped to help me. 

“I see.” She said simply, typing something into the computer ahead of her, and turning to face me with a smile that seemed a little too forced. “Well, I’m glad you came here when you did. It was the right thing to do- turning yourself in.”

“What?”

“Darren.”

“Yeah?” A man who had been sitting in the back, listening to the whole thing suddenly raised his eyes from the place on the ground he had been staring at the whole time, and met eyes with the lady.

“You know where to take her.”

“Yes ma’am.”

I looked from her to the guy, but she was passed looking me in the eyes. The man stood up, and grabbed my upper arm, signaling for me to stand. I did. 

“Please, can I call my dad?” I said, as I realized that the sun was starting to come up, and he must be sick with worry. 

“Don’t worry, sweetie. Everyone who needs to be called will be.” She said, not looking up from her computer as the man began leading me down the station halls. He first let me change into a new shirt, something from the lost and found they had in the back, before taking me to a holding cell in the back. He said nothing to me the entire time. 

I was so confused, as he closed me in the cell, and I asked hi again if he could call my dad, but he said nothing.   
I looked around and realised, for the first time since I had walked out of my class, that i was alone. And it suddenly became too much to bear- all of it. It’s funny how one night can turn so wrong. I finally forced myself after about twenty minutes, to look down at my hands. I don’t know why I was avoiding it. Maybe I was terrified of what I had seen, if I had even seen anything. I had heard the stories. Of course I had- of people with an extra gene. It was rare to find, and even rarer to discover on your own. Usually people with “abilities” are caught up in the system from the time they come into this world, as doctor’s are able to find it in them within the first twenty four or so hours. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what happened. I just got so scared, so angry, and then they appeared. Gone just as quickly as they had come. All that was there now, though, were a pair of bruised knuckles. 

Hours passed, it seemed like, and my dad never came to pick me up. I had started to wonder if they had even called him. The thought that they may not have caused a feeling of dread as heavy as stone to fill my chest. And it was during this time that I heard someone outside my cell. Or rather someones. 

“This where you’re keepin’ her?” A thick southern accent filled my ears, and disappointment flooded me as I realized it was not my dad. 

“Uh, yes… sir!” The other man, who I assumed was Darren, stumbled nervously over his words, as he spoke to whoever it was that was with them. 

The door to my cell unlocked, and I stood up as it opened. That’s when I saw him; a tall man with blonde hair and a skull tattoo on his neck.


End file.
